


It’s The Time Of The Season For Loving

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Tree, Elves, Fluff, M/M, chrismas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27880150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: “You're all so much different from the other elves,” Calum's forced to bring up when Luke thanks him for the hot cocoa.“Should I be insulted or flattered?”“Flattered,” Calum insists. “Definitely.” It said with much conviction, and Luke’s responding laugh is music to his ears. “You just, uh, you don't have very pointy ears.”“But I have pointy feet,” he tries to justify. Calum can’t see with the counter in his way, but Luke leans forward on his toes. He's a vision.-Wintertime always brings out the best in Calum. Colors light up the street, the snow crunches under his feet, and when a Christmas elf named Luke walks into his cafe, things only get merrier.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37
Collections: 5 Seconds of Ficmas





	It’s The Time Of The Season For Loving

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Time of the Season_ by The Zombies

Most of the year, living in the midwest can be something of a nightmare for Calum. Springtime covers the ground in slush, the result of the melting snow that just doesn’t seem to ever fade. The summer is humid and makes his hair frizz and curl in an untameable sort of way. Autumn can be alright, but it’s always far too short. When winter comes around, though… 

Winter is different. In any other city, a midwest winter contains flickering climates, an inconsistency that settles in until one day everybody finds themselves wearing shorts in a bone-chattering kind of freezing, icy snow falling too quickly from the sky and making the roads too slick for anybody to know how to drive in despite having lived in the city for the past thirty or so years of their lives. Arguably, any other midwest city would consider winter the absolute worst time of year. 

There’s a silver lining around Calum’s hometown, though. He doesn’t live in any other typical midwest city, he lives in Santa Claus, Indiana - the Christmas capital. 

Christmastime is always the busiest time of year here. Tourists from all over the country come to visit. They shop in the charming boutiques run by locals, they watch the annual Christmas Tree Lighting in the town center, and they get their hot cocoa from Calum in the small, holiday-themed cafe he inherited from his mother -  _ A-Latté Joy _ . The only times when Calum’s shop sees more than a moment of rest is when the tourists are distracted by the scheduled displays shown across town. At any other time, there’s a towel across his back and a steamer heating up almond milk. 

Luckily one of those scheduled activities is taking place, stealing away the nonstop rush of customers, and all Calum has to do for the next few minutes is serve his best friend a few drinks on the house. Ashton’s the lead accountant for the tourism board - the committee that oversees all of the activities going on year round. It’s how he always knows exactly when the cafe’s going to be empty, meaning he doesn’t have to wait in a long line of people taking their sweet time to peruse the menu, wanting something seasonal and special to post on social media as they share the smallest details of their trip with their friends. 

It’s how he cheats the system and gets his drinks free. 

“Are you closing down for the tree lighting?” Ashton asks as Calum gets started on making said free drinks. “It’s only a week out now.”

The Christmas Tree Lighting is arguably the most popular event the small town has to offer. It’s not quite as big as the lighting at the Rockefeller Center, but for Indiana, it’s no small thing. People come from miles away just to watch the mayor plug the lights into city hall, just to watch the color light up the night. Calum’s seen it enough times to last a lifetime, but for some reason, he always gets dragged back. This year, he isn’t as up for it as he has been. It’s not that he’s losing the holiday spirit, but… 

Well, he thinks he might be losing his holiday spirit. 

“I'm always busy up until,” he explains weakly, knowing that there’s not a soul in any part of town within fifteen minutes of the plugging in. He needs something, though, needs a way out of it all. “I'll just end up closing shop when things go down.” 

Like the news is the most devastating thing he’s ever heard, Ashton’s mouth drops, pulling a drawn out groan from his throat. “Awe, C’mon! Michael's closing the toy shop down. What's so special about this place?” 

As he takes the steamer out of the freshly hot milk pitcher, Calum rolls his eyes at the not-at-all comparable example. “People drink hot chocolate and lattes and eat cookies and scones as they watch. Nobody's buying a baby yoda to watch the tree lighting with.” 

“I am,” Ashton tries to justify his comparison. “I'm bringing a My Little Pony.” 

“That tells me more about you than I've ever cared to know.” 

With a laugh that shows just how lightly Ashton takes the insult, he throws a crumpled up napkin across the counter at Calum. “Fuck you,” he bites good-naturedly. “You should join us.” 

“It's not my thing.” 

For the second time, Ashton’s mouth drops. “It's  _ everyone _ 's thing,” he insists. There’s another napkin in his hand, and Calum keeps his eye on it, not wanting to be the target of another attack. “You're in the Christmas capital, my man.”

“I haven't been feeling the spirit lately,” Calum decides to come clean. He sprinkles peppermints on the top of the frozen hot chocolate he’s making and keeps his head down, focused and away from aunty judgement Ashton may hold for him losing his Holiday Mojo. “It’s hard when you and Michael are practically married, and I'm over here ignoring my mothers constant question of grandchildren.”

For all that Calum said, Ashton flounders for a moment before only responding to one part of his confession. “We're not almost married!”

“You've had the engagement ring picked out since before the second date,” Calum argues, and Ashton huffs. “There's nothing wrong with that, I'd just feel alone in a place so romantic.”

It’s quiet for a moment as Calum puts the lid on both of the drinks he’s just made. It’s not until he pushes them both, one hot and one cold, across the counter that he realizes Ashton’s not rushing to say anything. In fact, he looks lost for words. Calum takes the opportunity to grab two scones from the display case and put them in the oven for a few moments to heat them up. 

“I don't know how to make that less sad,” Ashton eventually mumbles with his eyes downcast at the countertop. 

“You don’t have to.” 

And for a moment, he doesn’t. The cafe sits still, no sound inside aside from the Christmas music playing over the system and the ticking of the egg timer resting above the oven, counting down the moments before the scones are down. It’s nice, gives Calum a break from the interrogation, but then the bell goes off, Calum’s removing the scones, and Ashton’s changing the subject to backtrack on any discomfort he passed to Calum, never one to sit in a dark mood for too long. 

“Have you seen the new elves at the tree lot?” At Ashton’s question, Calum shakes his head, grabbing two brown paper baggies to place the treats in. “Santa sent in some new helpers, it looks like.” 

There’s a suggestive lilt to his voice that makes Calum giggle. “I’m sure he did.” He shakes his head with it, placing the baggies on the counter between them. “Take this to your husband and leave me to my drinks.”

Just like something out of a cheesy Lifetime movie, the moment Ashton reaches out for them, the bell above the door rings and a family of six come running excitedly into  _ A-Latté Joy _ , their shoulders covered in snowflakes and noses in red. Ashton breathes in shallowly through his teeth. “Good luck.” 

It’s not long before he’s out of sight and Calum’s five customers deep with a line out the door. 

🎄🎄🎄

Three days later, as Calum’s cleaning the espresso grinder - his hands covered in the dark brown grounds and a look of pure frustration on his face - the bell above the door chimes and three tall men run through the door, shoving each other as they laugh. They’re all incredibly handsome, at least six feet, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but that’s not what has Calum staring in awe. 

Covered in all green, right from their curled cobbler shoes to their sharp hats, these boys must be the new elves. 

The tree lot is a fixture in Santa Claus. Every year the pine trees are grown with meticulous care before they’re brought to the lot, and a few special elves are brought in to help sell to the tourists that come to visit and the residents of the town. 

The previous batch of elves were at the lot for three years in a row before Santa must’ve realized that they were no-good, holiday hating jerks who held nothing but malice for the little town Calum calls home. And, alright, maybe they also never tipped, and maybe that’s where most of Calum’s contempt comes from, but it’s completely valid, and the tree lot is better without them. 

And moreso, Calum’s better off without them too. They always complained that their peppermint mocha lattes were too sweet, which is an insult Calum’s never been equipped to deal with. How can a drink crafted to perfection and loved by everybody ‘too sweet’? It never made sense, and it never will. 

These elves, though, are smiling, happy, and very  _ very _ handsome. 

As they all giggle and shove their way up to the counter, Calum wipes his hands on his apron and steps over to the register. “What can I get started for you?” he asks. 

The smallest of the three elves, the one with the brightest of the blue eyes and a name tag that reads  _ Ben _ , steps up and orders, “Three hot chocolates please.” 

Holding in his usual comment that he only serves hot  _ cocoa _ , not wanting to scare away what might be a new set of usuals, Calum offers, “Whipped cream?” 

“Yes.”

“Extra on mine,” the one with a crooked grin and a name tag reading  _ Jack _ requests. 

As Calum punches the order into the register, the three elves begin joking with each other again. He reads off their total and takes the cash from them. The entire two-dollars and seventy-six cents that comes back to them as change gets thrown into the tip jar without a moment’s hesitation by Ben, and Calum can feel his entire body lighting up, knowing he isn’t going to have a single issue with Santa’s new batch of elves. 

With a grin, he tells them, “They'll be ready at the end of the counter shortly,” and watches as they walk past and make their way to the other end of the bar. 

It isn’t until the third elf, the tallest one, the prettiest one, the one with a name tag reading  _ Luke _ in handwriting so smooth it looks like silk, walks past that Calum’s smile fades. A soft breath, one that’s full of awe, harmonizing with the “ _ Thank you _ ” that falls from the prettiest elf’s lips, escapes him, and something full of lightning  _ zips _ along his spine. 

Shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts in his head, Calum gets started on the drinks, pulling the milk from the fridge and filling up his largest pitcher. 

He wants to ask a few questions - maybe a few thousand. He wants to know all about the lot, and how they made their way into working there. He wants to know about how different Santa Claus is from home, and whether their boss is truly as jolly as everyone says he is. But mostly, Calum just wants to stare at the prettiest elf and tell him that he has eyes Calum wants to dive into. He wants to ask him how long he’s been working in his field, and if he’d ever consider being a trophy husband. 

“So you're the new elves everyone's talking about,” Calum says dryly, a lump stuck in his throat that he fights to swallow past. He’s a barista - it’s his job to make conversation. And if the anti-fatigue mats he has are perfectly perforated to accommodate any drool that may accumulate at his feet… Well, that’s just good planning. 

Jack laughs, completely unaware of the thoughts flickering behind Calum’s eyes. “Yeah. They thought the tree lot needed a new look.” 

The prettiest elf shakes his head, and Calum’s enchanted by the way his long hair moves with it. “It’s a favor to Santa, really.” Calum understands completely. The fact that it took him this long to appoint three such handsome elves to the lot is almost shocking. 

“How are sales looking this year?” Calum wonders aloud instead of saying any of that. “Everyone from Indy driving over for their trees already?” 

“It’s packed,” Jack agrees. He reaches out to the mini village set out on the counter and rubs some of the cotton-snow between two of his fingers. “I feel bad for all the kids that come through. Their trees are gonna be dead by the holiday.” 

As Calum pulls the first bit of milk from the steamer, mixing as he goes, he nods along. He adds extra whipped cream to the top of the drink and slides it over, sans lid, to Jack before getting started on a second one, trying to think of a new question to keep the conversation going. 

“How are the trees looking this year?”

“Full?” Jack laughs. There’s a bit of whipped cream resting against his upper lip from his drink. “Is that a good way to say it.”

“We don't know much about the trees,” Ben confesses, leaning casually against the curve of the counter. “We're just the muscle.”

There’s a bit of a flex to his arms, and Calum has to swallow against another lump as he watches Jack and Luke do the same. “Yeah,” he agrees before deciding that for his mental health, it might be best for him to not ask anymore questions. It’s hard to keep his head pure when gifts from Santa himself are practically modelling right in front of him. 

It isn’t long before the three elves make their own small talk. It isn’t long before Calum realizes that Luke, the prettiest elf, isn’t laughing with the others, he’s smiling at Calum’s freshly blushing face over the top of the steaming machine. 

With a shaking hand, he passes the second hot cocoa to Ben, not realizing he’s avoiding looking at Luke until Luke teases, “Saving the best for last then?”

“The  _ ugliest _ , more like,” Ben corrects and it’s the first that’s fallen from the shortest elf’s lips that’s taken the smile from Calum’s face. If anything, all it’s done is activated the part of his brain that has him plotting a murder as Luke rolls his eyes. 

The third hot cocoa crafts itself much quicker than the previous two, it feels like, and soon he’s making a last-minute decision to decorate the whipped cream with peppermint sprinkles. He slides it over and watches as Luke smirks. 

“Three hot cocoas,” he recites their order to them, changing the title of it as he does. Hot chocolate is for people to drink year round, but when the temperature drops, the snow falls, and the smell of cinnamon fills the air, its cocoa. “Have a very Merry Christmas,” he tells them, his eyes stuck on Luke like they’re super-glued. 

“We will.” 

As they leave, Calum watches Luke take a five dollar bill from his pocket and slide it into the tip jar. His tummy does a flip, feeling like a flurry of emotion is churning its way through him. 

When he walks home that night after closing down shop, he takes a detour past the tree lot. It’s an extra ten minutes to come this way, but he decides it’s more than worth it as he watches Luke tie a tree up to somebody’s car. When he finishes, he high fives a small boy standing by and laughs. 

Almost as if he feels Calum’s eyes on him, he looks out across the street, and Calum watches, mesmerized, as a smile dances along his beautiful lips. For the first time in years, garland wraps Calum’s heart, a jolly feeling taking over where disconnect once sat. 

🎄🎄🎄

Though Calum was left with a sneaking suspicion the day before that the tree lot’s newest elves would find themselves as regulars at  _ A-Latté Joy _ , Calum’s still surprised when just after the two-o’clock rush, as he’s brewing a new batch of peppermint coffee, the bell above the door jingles, signalling the arrival of new customers, and Ben and Luke come marching through the door, stomping the thin layer of packed snow off their curled, green shoes. Calum can feel a red tint blanketing his skin, feeling much more shy than the day before, especially after his brief encounter with Luke as he walked past the tree lot. 

Not wanting to let himself fall into a trap of non-responses, Calum forces himself to greet the elves with a quiet, “Hi.” 

Ben runs off to the bathroom with just a wave to part with, leaving Luke to meander up to the counter with a knowing grin on his beautiful face. “It’s been a long day, and Santa yelled last time he went on the trees,” he explains of Ben’s quick departure, and Calum can’t help but giggling, the sound visibly lighting up Luke’s face. “Three hot cocoas please.”

Calum begins to type it into the register, reminding himself to make Jack’s with extra whipped cream, but then the words catch up with him and he realizes what Luke’s just asked for. “You said ‘cocoa’.” 

“Only Christmas imposters call it chocolate.” 

It might be a little dumb of him to think, and Luke probably just heard Calum call it cocoa the day before, but Calum kind of thinks in the same way. People who say ‘chocolate’ aren’t in the holiday state of mind, and while Luke was just being clever, it still strikes Calum with a bit of awe. “You’re right.” 

Luke grins, passing a ten dollar bill across the counter. Calum takes it, exchanges it, and yet again, all of the change finds a home in the tip jar. It goes without saying that he  _ definitely _ likes this batch of elves much more than the last ones. 

With Ben in the bathroom and Calum focusing on his drinks, too afraid to talk and ruin the feeling of content from their last exchange, Luke’s left to wander to the other end of the counter by himself. Calum tries not to watch, but his eyes end up being drawn to the elf when, as he slides over the first cocoa, Luke asks, “How long have you worked here?” 

“Oh,” Calum says. “I own it.”

“Own it? How old are you?” 

It’s a question he gets a lot, everybody wondering how he can own the most popular cafe in town when he has such a babyface. “Twenty-four,” he answers, not letting himself swell with pride when Luke looks impressed. “It was my mom's place, and when she retired she passed it off to me.” Luke nods, but doesn’t say anything else, so Calum takes it as a queue to keep the conversation going. “How… how old are you?”

“In elf years, centuries,” Luke answers with a grin, “but here with the common folk I'm twenty four as well.” 

The math of it all checks out, and Calum nods as he slides the second finished hot cocoa over. When Luke thanks him, he’s forced to bring up, “You're all so much different from the other elves.” 

“Should I be insulted or flattered?” 

“ _ Flattered _ ,” Calum insists. “Definitely.” It said with much conviction, and Luke’s responding laugh is music to his ears. “You just, uh, you don't have very pointy ears.”

“But I have pointy feet,” he tries to justify. Calum can’t see with the counter in his way, but Luke leans forward on his toes. He's a vision. “I’m just glad my nose isn't red. The other elves would never let me join in any games." Calum giggles at the joke. “So what’s your name then? You're making me these delicious cocoas, and I don't even know who to make sure is on Nice list.”

At the compliment on his drinks, and the flirtatious way of asking, Calum can’t help but blush, knowing he’s giving himself and his stupid little crush away. “I'm Calum.”

“Nice to meet you, Calum.” 

The last hot cocoa makes its way across the counter just as Ben makes his way over from the restrooms. “Are we all set?”

“We are.” As they make their way to the door, Luke parts from Calum with a wink.

He’s never felt so warm in December. 

🎄🎄🎄

Later that night, after the register’s been counted down, the machine’s been cleaned, and the door locked up, Calum walks a few blocks over to the toy store that Michael, Calum’s friend and Ashton’s boyfriend, is the manager at. Inside of the building, all of the lights are off aside from the Christmas tree and a few light-up toys decorating the shelves. 

He tries the handle and is happy to find Michael hasn’t made his way over to locking it just yet. With the hand not holding Michael’s drink and late-night snack, Calum locks the door behind him. 

“Sorry,” a strained voice hollers from the backroom. “We're closed!” 

“Should I take my sweets back, then?” 

Instead of a response, Calum’s threat is met with a dull  _ thud _ , and then Michael’s walking onto the floor from the back, dressed in the toy store’s red-and-green sweater, completely covered in tinsel with a sharpness in his eyes. “You won't.” 

Laughing off the glare, Calum finishes walking to the counter and places the drink and the baggie next to a display of reindeer stuffed animals. There’s a few broken down boxes behind the desk, piling up from whatever Michael’s working on in the back. “You still decorating?”

“No,” Michael answers haughtily, his lips pursing around the straw of the frozen latte Calum brought him as he takes a drink. He pulls back slowly before continuing, “There's a new tinsel bomb that’s selling like crazy.” As he speaks, he reaches out for the brown paper baggie that Calum’s put a snowman cake pop inside of. 

“And you were just testing it out?” 

“He even has a hat!” Mchael yells, ignoring the question for a moment to admire his treat. He swallows it down with one bite and then answers, “No, a shipment exploded and I've been cleaning it up since noon.” 

It’s something that Calum has no trouble believing would happen to Michael, especially at such a busy time of year. “At least its tinsel and not slime. You look pretty with it on your head.” Michael’s smile takes over his entire face at the compliment, always a sucker for being told he’s pretty. “So what's the plan this year for Christmas? What are you getting Ashton?” 

“Hard to say.” Michael shrugs, a groan slipping past his lips. “He changes hobbies so quickly I can't even get anything shipped to me before he's moved on.” 

“You should just give it to him anyway,” Calum tries. “It serves him right for changing them so often.” Michael shakes his head, but Calum gets it. Ashton is, by far, the worst of their group of friends to shop for, but he always gets the perfect gifts for everyone else, so it just makes them want to try harder. Buying a throwaway gift that he won’t use is a waste of time, the advice was bad, so Calum moves onto what he’s really been wanting to say all night. “Hey, have you been to the tree lot yet?”

Looking confused at the sudden switch of topics, Michael shakes his head. “Not yet. We don't like getting our tree too early.” 

“Oh, well let me know when you do, okay?”

“Why?”

Calum shrugs. He doesn’t want to give himself away, especially not to somebody as nosey as Michael. “No reason.” 

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Michael looks suspicious, but doesn’t say anything more on the subject. “How's the cafe doing then? Seasonal sales hitting?”

“Yeah.” Calum reaches out and pulls one of the strands of tinsel from Michael’s shoulder. “We're already at our goal for the month. Everything from here is just…” he rubs the metallic string between two of his fingers, “profit.”

“Which means you can take a day off and come to the tree lot with Ashton and I this weekend, right?” Calum doesn’t answer, knowing it’s a trap, just narrows his eyes. “So we can see whatever’s interested you so much.” 

“I like  _ trees _ , Michael.”

“Yeah, you like something tall and seasonal,” Michael snorts. Having enough of the attitude, Calum glares and turns, leaving the shop and leaving Michael behind. “Thanks for the treats, loverboy.” 

🎄🎄🎄

Halfway through Calum’s self-appointed lunch break, the bell above the door rings, and he watches as Luke comes in the door, sans his usual elf friends. Calum rushes to stand up, cleaning up his tiny mess as he runs behind the counter and takes his spot in front of the register. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, subtly wiping his lip, hoping there isn’t a cocoa mustache making its home on his face and embarrassing him. “Three hot cocoas?”

Instead of nodding his head in agreement, Luke only grins. “You didn't have to rush for me.” 

Calum shrugs, his face feels warm and  _ not _ from his drink. He definitely didn’t have to rush, he wouldn’t have for any of his other regulars. He doesn’t get many breaks, and the people that work in town, that know just how busy he gets, never come in hoping to pull him away from his rest time, but with Luke… With Luke it’s different, and for a reason that he doesn’t want to admit aloud.

“Just one today, actually,” Luke orders when Calum doesn’t say anything else. 

“Where are Ben and Jack?” 

Leaning against the counter, Luke smiles something charming. “I asked them if I could come alone today.” Even though he wants to ask why Luke would want to come alone, Calum keeps himself quiet and rings up the order. Like always, the change goes in the jar, and Calum gets started on making the drink. “Are you disappointed?”

Calum looks up over the steamer, a little confused at the question. “What would I be disappointed in?”

“That it’s just me.”

The idea that there’d ever be a time in which Calm would be  _ disappointed  _ getting to spend time with Luke is absolutely ludicrous to him. “No, never.”

“Well you didn’t say anything,” Luke points out. There’s a teasing edge to his voice that has Calum grinning. “One might think you  _ hated _ me or something.”

With his head down, fixed on the drink he’s making, and a charmed chuckle in his voice, he confesses, “I don’t know what to say to you sometimes.”

“Say whatever you want,” Luke tells him, gesturing forward with one of his pretty, smooth hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What were you thinking about when I walked in?” 

And Calum could say he was thinking about the holidays, or the weather coming up this weekend. He could say he was wondering about world peace or some other philosophical thing that’d probably impress somebody out there in the city, but Calum wasn’t thinking about those things, and he gets the feeling that if he’s honest, Luke might just understand where his brain was. 

“What would happen if an anteater ate a fruit?” Calum asks. Luke quirks an eyebrow, but he doesn’t look put off by the thought. Calum pulls the pitcher from the steamer and continues, “Like if he ate a blueberry. Would that change his name? What about his morals? How heavily would that affect his psyche?”

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, only watches Calum’s practiced hand as he swirls whipped cream atop the cocoa. The silence almost makes him want to shrink into a hole, but then, as he’s sprinkling cinnamon to finish the product off, Luke nods. “I can see how that would make him question his place in the world.”

Of course Luke gets it - there was never a situation in which he wouldn’t. Elves are known to have an inquisitive mind. They have to - in helping toy production they have to always wonder and be curious of how to make things greater, bigger, better. The scenario that he wouldn’t share Calum’s curiosity on the situation is ridiculous. 

Calum puts a to-go lid on the cocoa and slides it across the counter. Luke reaches out and wonders, “ Hey, why don’t you come sit down with me while I drink this? It’s what you deserve having me burst in on your break.” 

It’s a nice-sounding offer, and Calum really wants to accept it, but his break is always strategically planned with when the touring crowds will be distracted. The ornament decorating event is going on right now, but it’s ending any second now, and there’s going to be a lot of cold children wanting hot cocoa and baked cookies. It’d be irresponsible for him to extend his break past when he’d planned to just because a pretty elf came in an opportune time. 

“I shouldn’t,” he declines. “My break was over anyway.”

Luke’s returning smile is lacking its usual shine. “I hope I’m reading that rejection wrong, so let me try a different approach.” Calum’s eyebrows raise. “Since your break is over, and you can’t join me now, would you want to accompany me to the Christmas Tree Lighting on Tuesday night?” Just as Calum’s mouth drops open, as he’s filled with shock as to if this is what he thinks it is, Luke clarifies, “As my  _ date _ .” 

“I - ” The words form before Calum can even think about them, too warm and excited and full of cheer to do anything but say,  _ “Yes _ , I’d like that a lot.”

Luke grins. “Good.” The moment doesn’t get to linger between them when the bell chimes above the door and a group of little kids come running into the shop. “I’ll see you soon, Calum.”

🎄🎄🎄

Three days later, after making drinks for every resident and tourist in town, Calum gives himself a very rare day off. Roy, his roommate, has agreed to sit back and watch the shop briefly, so Calum can accompany Ashton and Michael to the tree lot. He’s thinking of getting one for the coffee shop, something pretty and small to sit in the corner wearing ornaments and garland and making everything feel just a bit more at home, but he's mostly there for support. 

And to maybe, possibly, catch a glimpse of a certain pretty elf. But that’s neither here nor there. 

Also neither here nor there seems to be Ashton and Michael. The three of them arrived as a group, but somewhere along the aisles, Calum’s lost them. They most likely ran off along the giant trees in search of one for their home. 

Calum, himself, is in search of something a little bit smaller, something full and pretty to fit perfectly at the edge of Calum’s counter. It’s as he’s deciding against a thinning fir, he hears a familiar voice. 

“ - thought about what you’ll do when we go back?” The voice says, and it takes a moment for Calum to register it as Ben. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Luke’s voice floats from between the trees, harmonizing with the classic Christmas song playing throughout the lot. “I’ll work it out.”

The next few words from Ben are quiet, muffled amongst the trees, so Calum steps closer, knowing he’s eavesdropping on something he probably shouldn’t. He gets close enough that the pine needles of the tree next to him are prickling into his arms, but he can see Luke, illuminated by the hanging fairy lights, through the trees. 

“ - and you’ll be gone,” Ben’s voice is finally audible again, “for the rest of the year.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “And then I’ll come back. I think you’re making this more dramatic than it needs to be.” 

“But what if you don’t want to come back?”

The context of the conversation sinks in, and Calum realizes what he’s listening to. Luke’s  _ leaving _ . He’s headed back home, and Calum’s going to be left in the dust, or the slush, or… whatever. Calum’s going to go back to being alone in a city of magic all because he went and got himself invested in some tall, pretty elf who was never here to stay. 

Luke’s sigh comes through and then he’s shrugging. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” 

Not wanting to hear anymore of this cursed conversation, Calum stalks away, fleeing from the trees as quickly as he can. He doesn’t need one any longer, he decides. He makes quick work of finding his way through the maze of trees in search of his friends before he finds them cooing over a balsam. 

“Calum, hey!” Michael’s excited voice greets him as he rushes over, disappointment sinking into his bones. “Have you - ”

“Let’s get out of here.”

At his brashness, Ashton’s soft expression turns into something more concerned. “Are you alright?” he asks, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Calum’s shoulder. “Don’t you need a tree for the coffee shop?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Calum didn’t realize that Luke would have to leave, and he doesn’t want to say goodbye, but with the holiday ending in just three weeks, of course he’ll have to go back. Santa can’t be without his elves. “I just need to go.”

🎄🎄🎄

The night of the annual Christmas Tree Lighting, Calum closes shop early. He’s not doing it because of the lighting, but because of the conversation he’s planning on having with Luke when he arrives. It took a lot of thinking and deliberating, but he’s decided it’s best that he doesn’t pursue anything with Luke, that going to the Lighting together is a bad idea that’ll only end in heartbreak. 

It’s not the decision he  _ wants _ to make, but it’s only smart. 

Which is why when Luke walks through the door, the bell ringing with it, and asks “”You about ready?” Calum can’t help but sigh, letting all of the thoughts exhausting his brain come out in a show. “Or… maybe not?” 

Instead of letting the moment drag, he shrugs and cuts straight to the point. “It might be best if we don’t go.”

“Best for who?” Luke asks, a dry laugh coming out as the line between his eyebrows crinkles up. “Because I don’t think it’d be best for me.”

Calum frowns. “For both of us,” he answers honestly. “I don’t want either of us to get hurt.” He knows he’s being cryptic with his reasoning, but actually admitting that Luke’s leaving is more than he thinks he can take. It’s already been racing behind his eyes, he doesn’t need it to live on his tongue. 

“Why would we get hurt?”

“Because you’re leaving soon,” Calum tells him, watching as Luke’s eyes widen at the words, surprise taking over his face. “I overheard you at the tree lot talking to Ben. You said you had to go back for the rest of next year. I don’t want to get attached to you now only for you to disappear.” As Luke frowns, Calum takes in a deep breath, “And I know that you’ll come back next christmas, but - ”

“I’ll be back in June,” Luke cuts him off, words finite and insistent. 

It throws Calum for a bit of the loop and has him worrying instantly at the idea of Luke, wrapped in his fleecy green suit trying to outlast a humid, midwest June. “But that’s the summer. You won’t be able to survive.”

Luke’s returning laugh paints over the distress in Calum’s voice. “And why won’t I?”

“It’ll be too hot,” he explains like it isn’t already absolutely obvious, like it isn’t common knowledge that the climate will be  _ far _ too much for him. “You have to stay at the North Pole until winter!”

“The North…” Luke trails off, shaking his head before he’s grinning something that makes Calum begin to flush. “Calum, I’m just going back to school,” he explains. “For the rest of the school year. In Muncie.”

At first, he’s unsure of what Luke’s saying, but then it all sinks in, and Calum knows his flush is justified. Luke, for all that he looks and acts the part, just might be… human. Typically the lot hires real elves, but this year… this year they must have had a budget cut and had to outsource the job to a few college students. 

If that’s the truth, if Luke isn’t actually one of Santa’s elves, that means that maybe this whole thing, the idea of them together, isn’t as hopeless as Calum was worrying it was. 

“ _ Oh!”  _ Calum breathes out. His eyes are focusing on anything but Luke’s, too afraid to see the amusement in that at Calum’s faux pas. “You’re right… I’m just being dramatic.” he grabs his keys from the counter and makes towards the door. “Here, let’s go to the lighting.”

Luke follows, gigglings tumbling from his lips as he does. It’s not until after Calum’s locked up the shop and the two of them are halfway to Town Hall that Luke asks, “Did you  _ really  _ think I was an elf?” 

“No, I - ”

“Do you think elves exist?” Luke asks before Calum can even try to get himself out of it all. It also leaves Calum with the realization that though Luke is human, he didn’t grow up in Santa Claus. If he did, he’d know the truth behind the magic of Christmas and how real most folklore is surrounding the holiday. Elves are  _ very _ real, but Luke might not be ready to know it just yet, and that’s alright. They have a long, long time to get there. 

“I don't wanna talk about it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated
> 
> [Here's a shareable post!](https://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com/post/634447308882395136/5-seconds-of-ficmas-by-reversecow-and)


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